


The Mysteries of John Laurens

by smuglaurens



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Ambiguous Time, Creepy moments, Death, Multi, crackfic, cute bby 7 year old philip, dont ask, first fic on here, idk what else to add, it's a bad fic, not historically accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-11-02 07:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10939980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuglaurens/pseuds/smuglaurens
Summary: Philip has a strange dream that leaves him questioning everything.(I can't believe I'm posting a shitty crackfic based on an idea my friend had. It's stupid, and I don't know why I'm posting it but heRE WE GO.)





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse this for existing, thanks

Philip gazed at the clouds of heaven, amazed at how vast the place was. He was with his father’s best “friend”, John Laurens. He had heard a lot about the man and even crossed out some risque words from letters they wrote before he was born.  
“Wow...so I’m really here now arn’t I?” Philip asked with boylike wonder.  
“Yep little guy…” John sighed.  
Some silence between the two occurred, until John decided to speak again. “You know the thing we have most in common Philip?”  
“I think I do, John...we both have the same hair, the same nose, the same eyes, heck, even the same voice…” John shushed him. Philip began wondering about his family line in the quietness.  
“No, not any of that,” John silently spoke, looking up at the clouds.  
“Then what?” the small freckled boy asked, his eyes twinkling in anticipation.  
“Death,” John spoke as if his voice was bass-boosted to the max. His soft eyes turned cold and he had an especially creepy smile plastered on his face. Philip jumped.  
The little boy’s eyes shot open and he saw his mother by his bed. That terror was only a dream, phew. “Mom?”  
“Philip, are you alright?” Eliza spoke. Philip looked around the room and saw his father, obviously coming straight out of his office since his glasses were on. “You screamed louder than you normally do at night.”  
“Death,” Philip murmured. “Death…”  
“What was that?”  
“I’ve got to go do som’thin,” Philip spoke, determined.  
This was an omen (or it seemed like it to the 7 year old that he was), John Laurens was not the man he seemed! He ran straight to his dad’s office to go through the letters. He would find the truth.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philp digs deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's another chapter!

Philip arrived in his Pops’ office and looked around. He knew exactly where the drawer to his pops’ letters were since he tried to climb in there when he was a baby. He shuddered at the thought of it. There was blood everywhere! Anyways, he opened the drawer and found different folders of letters. He went to the tab “John”, written in flowery letters with hearts around them. Huh, weird.  
He unfolded the first letter with shaky hands. But before he could read the juicy details, the door swung open.  
“Philip! What on earth -- are those my letters?!” his Pops practically yelled. Philip froze. What was he supposed to say?  
I’m not reading your letters -- that one could be disproved instantly.  
I need to find the secret about your old boy--best friend -- he’d never get away with it.  
Philip decided on telling the truth. “Sorry…” he murmured, still holding the letter.  
“You know what happened last time,” his father scolded him. Yeah, Philip knew what happened last time. “And you know you’re not allowed in here. So just...don’t do it again.”  
Little did Philip’s dad know, he was going to have to do it again. And again. Anything to find out...the secret…if there was a secret.  
But there totally was and Philip was right and not jumping to conclusions! Yes.  
“Now straight to bed. Your mother will kill me if we wake up Angie.” His father shooed him off. Philip knew it was just an excuse, since Angie was the heaviest sleeper he ever met. Philip grumbled. He would have to find another way…

\--

The next day, the Hamiltons were sitting at the breakfast table. Philip’s little sister Angie was spilling syrup all over the table while his mother desperately tried to wipe it up with a wet washcloth. His pops looked the same as always, dead inside and holding coffee. Alex. Jr was throwing baby food on the ground. And James didn’t get food, Philip guessed, because he was still just a baby.  
But the plan was to figure out the truth about John, not eat. Philip picked at his food until he knew exactly what to do. “Hey, pops?”  
“Yes, Philip?” he asked, his voice monotone as ever.  
“Can you tell me about John Laurens?” Philip asked, smiling. This was perfect, since once his dad started talking he didn’t stop.  
“Oh...Oh! John?” his father spoke, surprised. Mother put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Alex, not in front of the kids,” she whispered loudly.  
“But the kids asked,” Pops tried to reason.  
“Fine,” mother spoke, wiping up the syrup but a bit more furiously this time. “But leave out the details. He’s seven.” Mother added the last part in quietly.  
Philip was intrigued. Details? Were the details John’s...secrets? They had to be. They had to be!!!  
Pops droned on and on, Philip listening intently. However, the conversation ended when he mentioned college and said something about jobs and Mom smacked him on the head.  
“Hey, I thought jobs were about guys going to work!” Philip protested to Mom.  
“Not that kind of job,” she spoke sharply, giving a dirty look to dad.  
It looked like he’d have to get his information elsewhere. Wait! He knew exactly who to speak to! Uncle Laf!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I put more effort into this one than in the first, since the first was basically a shitpost.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip writes to Laf.

Uncle Laf was the perfect person to ask. He and John were friends, too but Laf told Philip a lot of stuff! Like how in France people sometimes ate snails. Philip thought that was gross. But the point was he would tell Philip the secrets, yes, definitely. Now how would he go about this…

“Hey, hey Pops, we haven’t seen Uncle Laf in forever,” Philip brought up casually, finally taking a bite of his now cold breakfast.

“Well, he is in France,” Pops replied just as casually. Philip’s world was shaken and an utterly shocked look plastered across his face.

“France?! But I wanted to talk to him!!” Philip protested. 

“Philip, you’re acting weird!” Angie commented, attempting to squeeze more syrup out of the bottle onto her soaked pancakes before mom took it from her.

“No, I’m not.” Philip crossed his arms and gave his sister an angry glare. But then an idea flashed into his mind. “Daaad please can I write him a letter? I’ll be fast!”

“Okay…” he started, sounding a little suspicious. “Come to think of it, I haven’t talked to him in a while either.”

Philip held in a yelp of joy and immediately dropped out of his seat, eager to start his letter. He was halfway out of the dining room when he was interrupted.

“Ahem, what do you say?” mother asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Can I be excused,” Philip spoke monotonously. 

“There we go, yes,” she assured, going back to cleaning the syrup mess.

Philip ran out of there, and straight to his room to begin writing. He pulled out a piece of school-paper and began to scrawl messily as fast as he could. He needed answers and he needed them soon! 

After about ten minutes, his masterpiece of a letter was complete. He signed it, and read it over.

It read:

_Dear Unkl Laf_

_Its me, Philip. Im 7 year old now. How have you been? Well dont answer that. Thats not what im writing you about. I need to ask about John Laurens. What did you know about hem? Like. Was he ever wierd to you. Did he have any secrets. I need to know theses things. Mom wont let my Pops tell me because of his jobs or something. Your my last hope. If you dont tell me im going to rip up all you and Pops letters._

Love Philip.

He folded up the letter and stuffed it into an envelope. “Pops! Help me mail this!”

\--

About a week later of patiently checking the mailbox and worrying about whether it went through or not, Philip got a letter.

“YES!” he screamed. He ran as fast as he could to his room, not bothering to say hi to any of his siblings or parents. 

He tore open the envelope as quickly as he could, practically ripping the letter out of it. He unfolded the letter, anticipating deep dark secrets. Laf’s fancy script was hard to make out, but Philip was determined. He squinted his eyes to read it.

It read:

_Dear Philip,_

_Hello! Well, when your father notified me you wanted to write to me, I was not expecting this. But I hope I could answer some things for you. I do not wish for you to go through with your ‘threat’._ A scribbled smiley face followed the sentence. _John was a good man…he and your father were very close. I can’t tell you everything -- you’re too young. But he fought for America. He was very brave._

Philip scanned the letter for secrets but found nothing but filler. He sighed in defeat, crumpling up the letter. It felt as if he’d never figure this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. Okay. So I KNOW I haven't updated this for forever and a half.  
> But my reason is, I was super unmotivated and really didn't know how I was going to continue this.  
> And I was feeling really unconfident in my writing.  
> And, weirdly, I write far more at school than during summer. BUT I've figured out how to finish this, and by god, it'll be finished soon! >:D  
> Also, don't crucify me, Philip's letter had a lot of misspellings but it because he's practically a baby still! :D
> 
> But anyways, I'll be updating this a LOT more frequently. Hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip is mistaken for someone else.
> 
> (thank you to Dirtkid123 for the idea, I hope I did it justice!)

It’d been a long time since Philip had thought about John Laurens. He was fifteen now, and he pretty much gave up on finding the ‘secret’ about Laurens when he was eight, chalking it up to just a simple bad dream that he blew out of proportion. 

That night, Philip was simply in his room studying.

He didn’t expect his father to drunkenly (although it could have been sleep deprivation) stumble into his room just then. “John!” he slurred, stepping closer. A huge smile was plastered on his face.

Philip’s face went pale as he connected the dots. His father had mistaken him for his old…friend, yeah, ‘friend’…John Laurens. “W…what?” 

“You’ve been gone for so long, you’re finally back…” He brought Philip into a tight hug. “I missed you so much…” 

Now, Philip had three options here. 

He could tell his dad that he was absolutely not John Laurens and deal with the aftermath. That wouldn’t be good; his Pops would either not believe him or get depressed. Philip didn’t want that. He thought over his options once more.

He could run away, perhaps. Nope, he was pretty much trapped in the hug.

His only option was to just…go along with it, he guessed. He swallowed his pride and, knowing this was the only option, responded as if he was Laurens. “I…missed you too?” He only hoped he could emulate his father’s old friend well enough. 

“I…we have so much to talk ‘bout, dearest Laurens.” Philip was finally let out of the hug. 

Philip’s eyes widened as his father tried to… go in for a kiss?! Philip swerved his body to avoid it, and accidentally let his jaw drop. Oh God. Laurens was THAT kind of friend. It all made sense now. Philip began to absolutely regret this decision.

“C’mon my dearest,” slurred Pops, putting a hand on Philip’s shoulder. Philip’s eye twitched and he began to sweat. How on Earth could he get himself out of this one?

“Uh…” Philip coughed, feeling very uncomfortable. He shifted, attempting to nudge his father’s hand off of him. “Let’s…talk, then?” He so badly wanted to run but he knew he’d dug himself into a hole then.

“Oh my God, what to say?” He leaned back and looked down, smiling wide still. “I have a family now, it’s been so long, I still can’t believe it…” 

“Yeah, it…it sure has,” Philip murmured. He looked at his hands, wondering if this was just a cruel, weird dream.

“You know, my oldest son reminds me so much of you,” Pops spoke, in barely a whisper.

Philip held back a sigh. If only he knew.

“But you’re here now…h-ha…” 

The look in his father’s eyes was such genuine endearment that Philip felt a pang of guilt. He was still extremely uncomfortable, but his father truly believed that he was his old…lover. It felt so weird to think about. 

“Betsey is good to me…she always has been…but…” He gave a small chuckle. “But now you’re back. You’re with me, you’re really here…” 

To Philip’s surprise, tears began to run down his father’s face. Philip’s eyes widened at the sight. He realized quickly that he needed to put an end to this. It just wasn’t healthy.

“Y-you need sleep,” Philip spoke quickly, backing away. His mind was stirring with thoughts. Mainly thoughts of how he was going to get out of this situation.

“I don’t...need…” His father’s voice wavered, softening to silence as he closed his eyes.

Philip sighed, and pulled up his blanket, draping it over his very sleep deprived father.

He watched as his father drifted peacefully off to sleep. “Goodnight, Pops.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO almost done with this crackfic thingy that turned serious! The next chapter will be the last one. I'm exciteddd :D
> 
> I aged Philip up here because I found it pointless to just write a bunch more chapters of him as a 7 year old trying to find out the 'secret', and I was getting a little tired of writing it. SO yeah. 
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip reflects.

Philip was nineteen then.

He grasped his father’s dueling pistol. He wasn’t going to shoot Eacker. And Eacker wasn’t going to shoot him. He was sure of it.

His eyes trailed to the sky, the sun only rising just then. He wasn’t ready to die. He had so many more sunrises to watch. He would survive.

The counting began, but Philip tuned it out. It wasn't neccessary; he would survive. Eacker wouldn’t shoot him. No one had to die.

This was for Pops’ honor. Philip’s family would never be disgraced after this. Never again. He silently swore to himself he’d never duel again.

The counters got to one, and screamed ‘fire’, frantically waiting for someone to make a move. But the two of them just looked at each other, both uncertain of what to do. What they could do. 

Philip knew no one had to die. He shut his eyes tight and raised up his pistol, squeezing the trigger. All he heard was a bang, then he felt a sharp pain in his hip, traveling to his arm. 

Philip let out a quiet cry, slouching to the ground, feeling blood pour out of him. 

He saw his entire life flash before his eyes, no, he couldn’t die! He held on, and felt himself being pulled away, most likely by the doctor.

He tasted something metallic drip from his mouth. Don’t die, don’t die! STAY ALIVE, STAY ALIVE!

His final thought before he woke again was of his dream he had all those years ago.

“You know the thing we have most in common, Philip?” John had said.

It all made sense. Philip felt himself fully relax as he remembered that one word they had in common.

“ _Death_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY!!! I finished it! 
> 
> This ending, this dang ending was what inspire me to finish it. I feel so proud because this just started out as a dumb crackfic and I transformed it into something with meaning (at least to me).
> 
> Sorry it was angsty, but it needed to be done. I'm very happy with it!
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed, and please leave a kudos if you did!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Saddest part is this started out as a small crackfic and then I got ideas after the "death part". Kill me.


End file.
